


Say A Little Prayer

by Love2Slash



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love2Slash/pseuds/Love2Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike has an accident on his way to work.  Will it encourage Harvey to reveal his true feelings at last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"What do you mean, Mike's had an accident? Where? And when? And he's in the _hospital?_ What the hell happened, Donna?" 

Harvey, visibly paler than he'd been a few seconds ago, has stopped dead in his tracks at Donna's words before turning on his heel and impaling her with his dark glare. All morning he'd been berating Mike for being late for the third day in a row, and he'd been mad as hell when the kid had actually missed the whole of the Winsberg meeting without delivering the promised paperwork, but now, on hearing this news … well, what was that he could feel fluttering beneath his usually calm, unruffled exterior?

Surely it wasn't _fear?_

"I'm not sure what happened," Donna says carefully. "They were a bit vague with the details on the phone but apparently he was taken to the Emergency Room early this morning." She held up a white card on which she'd scribbled down all the details in neat black handwriting. "They said could you go down there as soon as possible. For some reason they seemed to think you were his next of kin. I didn't bother to contradict them."

Brushing this aside as if it were seemingly a very minor detail, Harvey plucks the card from Donna's outstretched fingers and examines its content. "Are we talking about something minor here, like bruised pride and a bent wheel?" Harvey demands when the information on the card gives him no real answers, "or is it something more serious?"

He waits, almost breathlessly, and Donna is suddenly sure she can hear his heart thudding from beneath the smooth contours of his close-fitting vest and pristinely pressed white shirt. 

"Donna, for God's sake," he barks. "Speak to me!"

"I really don't know," she lies. 

She watches, slight pangs of guilt pricking her conscience as he pockets the card and she notices that his hand is actually trembling. 

"And I'm only hearing about this now _because_ … ?" he questions sharply. 

"Because you were busy in the meeting. _If Mike turns up now, grab the paperwork from him and tell him to take a hike._ That's what you said to me as you closed the door in my face."

At that, he eyes her resentfully. "I still would have liked to know," he complains.

"Harvey, I'm sure he'll be okay," she soothes, but her words are lost on him as he marches towards the elevators, long purposeful strides carrying him quickly on his way.

At the hospital he gives his own name as well as Mike's and then he waits, refusing the offered chair, then alternately checking his watch every few seconds and drumming his fingers impatiently on the counter. The receptionist glares at him and he glares back. Harvey isn't used to being kept waiting, and any delay is intolerable to him. She also insists she's unable to issue him with any information just yet, something else that Harvey isn't used to.

"The doctor will be here soon. He'll speak to you then," is all she'll say.

And so he waits: impatiently pacing, his gut wrenching, neck craning every time a door creaks open or a telephone rings. 

_Oh God, Mike_ is all he can think, and his mind is full of his rookie's earnest blue eyes, his skinny ties and his suit pants tethered by bicycle clips.

And that's when he finally has to admit it to himself: that this kid, who'd come to him by a complete fluke and subsequently had impressed him so, had somehow found a way into his heart. And now this funny, smart, sometimes so irritatingly moralistic but incredibly _adorable_ kid is hurt, possibly badly, and that just kills Harvey Specter stone dead.

"Mr Specter, are you ok?" the receptionist questions anxiously, detecting his impatience gradually turning to something more akin to anxiety bordering panic. "Can I get you something? A cup of tea maybe? Why don't you take a chair? I'm sure the doctor won't be much longer."

But he shakes his head obstinately. Suddenly he's overcome by a feeling of dread and he finds himself doing something he hasn't felt the need to do in years.

He prays.

"Mr Specter?" the doctor asks him moments later, and he whirls when he feels a tap on his shoulder. "You're here to see Mike Ross?"

White-faced, Harvey nods. "Just tell me, doc," he says. "Just tell me the worst."

The doctor looks at him curiously. "He's gonna be just fine," he reassures him, patting Harvey on the arm.

"Really?" Harvey releases a huge breath, although he just about manages to resist the sudden urge to sink to his knees and cry: "Oh, thank you, God!" 

Instead he clears his throat.

The doctor looks nervously at the well-groomed man in the expensive suit, whose colour seems to be returning somewhat. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know who gave you the idea that Mr Ross's condition was more serious. Hopefully not any of my staff?"

Harvey holds up a hand. "No, no," he says, still feeling weak as the relief pulsates through his veins. "Certainly none of _your_ staff," he adds, thinking he'll be having a few choice words with Donna when he gets back to the office. "When can I see him?"

"Come on and I'll take you to him now," the doctor replies, smiling. "I must say we're very grateful to Pearson Hardman for arranging payment for Mr Ross's treatment so quickly." 

"We did?"

"Yes, as soon as we spoke to your secretary this morning, she immediately smoothed everything out with the company's insurance scheme."

 _Hmm,_ Harvey thinks, frowning. _Donna, just what the hell have you been up to?_

He follows the doctor into a spacious, well equipped room, and the first thing he sees is Mike propped up against a bank of pillows, looking very much alive, if somewhat battered, bandaged and bruised.

"What the hell happened to you?" he booms, relief making him loud as he approaches the bed, now with his trademark disapproving frown firmly back in place. He's almost regained his composure but not quite. He still feels his hands trembling despite his relief, and so he keeps them stuffed into his pockets.

Mike looks guiltily up at him, wincing in pain as he does so.

"About the Winsberg meeting –" he starts to say.

"Never mind that," Harvey interrupts more brusquely than he means to. "Tell me what happened."

Mike looks shame-faced. "Uh, me and my bike," he says, "we got into a little dispute with a truck. Truck won."

"Dammit, Mike!" Harvey exclaims. "How many times have I told you to be careful on that damn bike?"

"Um … " Mike mumbles, frowning. Actually he can't remember Harvey ever saying anything of the sort. Neither can Harvey for that matter. He clears his throat as he realises those warnings had all been in his head: he'd never actually spoken them out loud. 

Mike looks up at Harvey and is suddenly taken aback. "Wow, Harvey," he says, his tone hushed and curious. "Are you blushing?" 

"Don't be ridiculous. I never blush," Harvey insists. Nevertheless his cheeks do feel decidedly hot. "So what's the damage then, doc?" he asks, in an attempt to divert the attention away from himself and back to Mike. 

"Well, he actually got off pretty lightly, considering," the doctor says, consulting his notes. "Mild concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, various grazes and contusions. Good job he was wearing a helmet."

"See, I told you helmet hair is better than a smashed-in skull," Mike tells Harvey, who frowns, remembering the times he's criticised Mike's head of scruffy duck-fluff hair whenever he's pitched up (usually late) to a client's office on his bike.

"Quite," the doctor says, nodding in agreement. "In fact, the worst injuries he's sustained are the fractures to his wrist and collar bone. He's going to have to be in plaster for a little while." The doctor turns from Harvey back to Mike. "I'm afraid you're going to be rather helpless for a few weeks, Mr Ross."

"Oh goody," Mike murmurs, rolling his eyes. He tries to smile at Harvey but he doesn't quite make it, and Harvey can't help but notice how exhausted his young associate is looking.

"How long will he need to stay in the hospital?" Harvey asks.

"I should think we'll be keeping him in for a few days at least, and then he'll be able to recuperate at home, providing of course that he has suitable care. He's on quite a lot of pain medication at the moment though."

After the doctor leaves, Harvey at last takes the opportunity to thoroughly check Mike over himself with his own eyes, carefully examining the rather large graze to his chin that looks like there's still probably pieces of gravel in it, and noticing the stiff way he holds himself, as if every breath hurts, which it probably does. One arm is in a sling, nestled close to his chest, whilst the other rests in a temporary cast elevated by pillows. By the time Harvey's eyes come back to meet Mike's, his rookie is watching him curiously, his lips parted in a half smile and his blue eyes slightly narrowed, not just with pain and tiredness, but also with curiosity.

"What?" Harvey asks, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other under Mike's steady gaze. "What on earth have you got to smile about?"

"Just that you obviously do care about me after all," Mike murmurs, clearly taking pleasure in the moment. "And don't say you don't either, because I can see it in your eyes."

"What? No!" Harvey responds scornfully, although he's a split second too slow, causing Mike's tentative smile to spread. "I'm just worrying about getting the paperwork sorted in time for the Morrison deposition tomorrow morning, that's all." 

"Oh, I've already done it," Mike says. "I was bringing it to you this morning when –" Suddenly he breaks off, eyes wide with panic. "Fuck, it was in my messenger bag. I haven't seen it since I got here." He attempts to push himself up from the bed but he suddenly cries out in pain, causing Harvey to start forward in concern. 

"I was kidding, you idiot," he scolds, bending and lifting up the bag from where it lay propped up against the wheels of the hospital bed. "Look, it's here. Mike, is this why you ended up having this accident? Because you were tired after pulling another all-nighter to complete that paperwork for me as well as the Winsberg stuff?" He waits for confirmation, but although Mike says nothing, Harvey instinctively knows that he's right. "Look, do me a favour and just calm down before you do yourself another injury," he orders guiltily. "Do you really think I'm bothered about paperwork, even paperwork of that importance, when you're lying here in the hospital? Don't be a dick, Mike."

A little reassured, Mike relaxes back against the pillows. "Well, I guess there's the proof I was looking for," he huffs, his breath short as the pain of his sudden movement subsides.

"Proof of what?"

"That you care. About me, I mean." Mike watches him as carefully as his tired eyes will allow. "Go on, Harvey," he cajoles. "Admit it. You know you want to."

It's in Harvey's mind to deny it again, but then his mouth suddenly seems to have other ideas. "Look, if you really want to know," he says quickly, "I came rushing down here as soon as I found out you'd been hurt, and certainly when Donna made out like you were at death's door anyway. So yeah, ok, I care. Enough to pray even. There. Are you happy now? Knowing that I prayed for you?"

"You _prayed_?" 

Harvey sighs and lowers himself into the bedside chair, which he then pulls in a little closer. "Yeah, I prayed," he admits, leaning on the bed rail and nodding," and believe me kid, that's not something I often do, if ever."

"What? Like actual praying?" Mike questions, and the corners of his lips are slowly curving upwards again. "Praying as in _Please God, let Mike Ross be okay and if you do I'll auction off all my records for charity?_ That kind of desperately trying to cut a deal with God, eleventh hour plea bargain type praying?"

Harvey laughs despite himself and the fear that's he's already revealed too much. "Well, okay, okay, so maybe not the bit about the records," he scoffs, "but sure, I prayed you'd be okay. At least not be dead, anyway."

Suddenly his throat is dry and he looks down, not wanting his eyes to convey the sheer terror he'd felt at the thought of losing Mike. Words – even the well-chosen words of an ace closer like himself – would simply not suffice.

"Harvey?" Mike's voice when it next comes is gentle, soft and breathy, and Harvey looks up again to meet his puppy's faithful gaze. "Thanks. For the prayers, I mean, and for coming down here to see me. I appreciate it. I really do."

Harvey clears his throat. "No need to thank me, kiddo," he says. "And besides, you're going to be just fine, right? It doesn't look like you actually needed my prayers anyway."

"Maybe not," Mike concedes, "but then maybe I'm thanking you in advance for all the help I'm going to need when I get out of here with both my arms out of commission."

"Well, I guess we'll need to talk about that further," Harvey says, frowning, although his eyes twinkle teasingly, "because I certainly hope you're not expecting _me_ to be the one to spoon feed you your dinner and wipe your chin and ass, regardless of whether you go around telling people I'm your next of kin or not." At that, Mike reddens a little and he opens his mouth to speak but Harvey shakes his head. "Look, get some rest now and I'll come back and see you later on tonight, after work, okay? We'll talk things over then."

"But –"

"Later," Harvey says firmly as he stands up and straightens out his suit jacket before returning the chair to its former position, although he does turn to wink at Mike after picking up his messenger bag and tucking it under his arm as he exits the room. However, as he makes his way back to where Ray waits patiently for him in the town car in the hospital parking lot, he can't quite resist a quick nod of gratitude at the stained glass windows of the hospital chapel as he passes it by.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mike continues his recovery after his accident, Harvey becomes increasingly involved in his care.

"You can leave that with Donna," Harvey mouths impatiently when he looks up from his laptop to see it's Louis tapping loudly on the glass wall of his office whilst waving a file frantically at him.

"I thought you said you needed these financial statements urgently, hot shot," Louis sneers, pushing his way into the room with a rat-like grin plastered all over his face. "What's the matter? They got you running scared now? You need extra time to stand a chance of winning after all?"

"I'm taking a few days off," Harvey says shortly as he sends the document he's been working on through to Donna's printer and then promptly shuts his laptop lid with a sharp snap. "Maybe longer. The case is on hold until I get back."

Louis is aghast. "What? And live a coward in thine own esteem, letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,” like the poor cat i' th' adage? Are you out of your mind?"

"Well, you take it over then," Harvey snaps. "If you're so bothered about it, be my guest. Donna will pass you all the files."

Louis gapes, truly shocked now, and he glances at Donna who nods sagely from where she leans in the doorway, to show that Harvey isn't actually kidding. "But you've been the lead on this case since day one," he gasps. "Why would you just up and leave it now when you're so close to success? It doesn't make any sense."

"Oh, but haven't you heard, Louis?" Donna says, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and folding her arms across her chest. "Harvey's turned animal-lover these days. He's adopting a puppy."

"Excuse me?" Louis looks from one to other of them in utter confusion.

"Donna!" Harvey warns, as he squeezes past her. "You'd do as well to remember that you aren't forgiven yet. Not even one tiny bit."

"Oh, for making you realise how it would have felt to have lost him?" she retorts, flicking a red tendril of hair over her shoulder. "I'm certainly not sorry about that, no way!"

"Lose who? What? When? The - the puppy?" Louis is seriously struggling to keep up with the conversation.

"Yeah, the puppy," Donna says, turning towards him with a simpering smile. "He was hurt, the poor little thing, but Harvey's going to take good care of him and nurse him back to full health, aren't you, Harvey?"

"I'm warning you, Donna!" Harvey's voice floats back to them as he strides towards the elevators.

"Wow, I didn't even know they allowed domestic animals in his building," Louis remarks, his eyes wide as he shakes his head in wonder. "Imagine that!"

 

Mike stifles an appreciative chuckle when Harvey relays all this to him in the back of the car on the way home from the hospital less than a hour later. Laughing hurts though, and Harvey watches anxiously as he stiffens, pressing an elbow to his ribs. 

"How is it?" he asks. 

"Sore," Mike replies, "but I'll live." 

In Harvey's luxurious apartment, he settles back after his host guides him towards one of the larger, squashier couches, gingerly testing each movement he intends to make before carrying it out. His right arm is still secured in a brace-type sling in order to immobilise his collar bone as much as possible while it heals, with instructions from the doctor to wear it at all times, and especially in bed. The left, wrapped in a hard blue cast from mid-forearm to an inch past his knuckles, affords him some limited movement of his fingers, but no real grip and certainly no strength.

"Harvey," he'd said tentatively the previous evening, when the doctor had finished going through his discharge papers and had left them alone together. "You know I'm going to need … well, quite a bit of _help_ , don't you? I mean, there's – well, there's certain things I haven't been able to do for myself since my accident and –" 

"Are we back to the subject of ass-wiping?" Harvey had butted in, one eyebrow raised, his mouth smirking.

"Hey, y'know, it's not actually funny," Mike had groaned, embarrassed. "I mean, have you really thought this through, Harvey? Me coming to your place, I mean? Maybe I'd be better off going to some – some nursing home or something." His face had suddenly fallen then as he'd remembered how when the time had come for Grammy to leave her own home, she'd told him how the worse thing about growing old had been the indignity it had brought when you were no longer able to take care of even the most personal of your bodily functions by yourself.

Harvey had sensed Mike's sudden mood change for the worse and had tried to reassure him. "Look, quit worrying, will you?" he'd told him. "I've hired a nurse to help you out with anything like _that_ during the day, and at night, well, if anything crops up, we'll just have to cope with it, won't we?"

Mike had looked doubtful. "I guess," he'd said.

Now as he takes in his surroundings and looks around him, he asks the question. "What about the nurse, Harvey?" he says. "Where is she? Or is it a he?"

Harvey frowns. "The nurse? It's a she," he replies, "and she's not here yet. She starts at seven tomorrow morning. Why?"

Mike pulls a face and shifts his legs as if he's feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry then," he says, "but I think I gotta go." 

Harvey looks alarmed for a couple of seconds as he realises the challenges his new role are affording him, that of caregiver, are too soon upon him. For a moment he glances about the room, almost as if he expects Donna to magically appear and take care of the problem for him, the way she does with everything else, but then when he turns back he notices a little twitch at the corner of Mike's mouth.

"What? Oh, you bastard, you're kidding me, right?"

Mike holds his face straight for a few seconds longer but then he breaks into a grin. "Ha, I had you there for a moment, didn't I?" He laughs but again he catches his breath at the pain it brings. "No, no," he adds when he finally gets his breath back. "I'm pretty much a regular morning kinda guy, if you know what I mean, so you're off the hook for now."

"I'll be sure to bear that in mind for future reference," Harvey says, grinning back.

They spend a pleasant hour or so, watching TV and eating, and although Mike is a little embarrassed that Harvey has to cut up his food, he's reasonably able to balance a spoon between the fingers protruding from his cast hand and he mostly manages to scoop the cut up pieces into his mouth. He doesn't eat much though, and soon after Harvey clears the plates away, he notices Mike's face looking tired and lined as his eyes begin to droop.

"C'mon," he tells him. "Let's get you into bed." He thinks about making some kind of quip about how that sounds but he bails at the last moment. Instead, in the spacious blue-tiled en suite Mike will be using during his stay, Harvey helps him to brush his teeth and then goes to turn down the bed while leaving him to at least urinate alone and in peace.

"Can you manage ok?" he calls, although his answer soon comes when Mike comes shuffling out of the bathroom with his sweat pants hanging low on his hips and looking more tired than Harvey's ever seen him before.

"You're beat," he says unnecessarily. 

"Well, I guess I've only been used to lying down," Mike agrees sleepily. "M'tired, Harvey."

"I know, kid, I know. C'mon." 

He helps Mike strip down to his boxers and tee, checks that the strapping on his sling is as comfortable as it can be, and when he's sure his charge is settled and has everything he needs, he leaves him to sleep. "Are you sure the room's ok?" he asks at the door, although _room_ seems like a bit of an understatement to Mike, considering it's actually bigger than his entire apartment. 

"S'great," he mumbles, his eyes already closed. "Thanks, Harvey." 

"If you need anything, just holler, okay?" Harvey says. "I'm right next door."

There's no reply, just Mike's steady breathing, and so shortly afterwards, and feeling tired after a long day himself, Harvey retires to bed.

A few hours later, he awakens with a start. He can hear something – it's not Mike calling out his name or anything like that, but he's definitely making some sort of a noise. Harvey gets up and pads to Mike's door, listening intently, but then there's only silence and so after a while he goes back to bed.

An hour or so later though, it happens again, only this time the noises are louder: an assortment of muffled shouts, cries and whimpers. Again Harvey hovers uncertainly outside his door until a louder cry has him knocking.

"Mike?" he calls softly. "Are you okay in there?"

When there's no reply, he pushes the door open, spilling light from the hallway behind him into the bedroom beyond. Mike immediately turns his face away, pressing it into the pillow, but he knows it's too late and that surely Harvey has already seen the tears glittering on his cheeks.

"Mike? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Harvey," he lies. "It's okay, you can go back to bed. Sorry if I woke you." 

Harvey hesitates. "Are you in pain, Mike?" he asks softly. "Do you need some of your medication?"

"No," Mike says, although this time he's not lying. He's not in pain. At least, not in the way that Harvey means. He looks over at his boss, silhouetted in just his boxers and white t-shirt against the soft amber glow of the hallway lamp, and he wonders what more this man could possibly do for him. He'd given him a job, more hope than he'd ever felt he'd a right to expect, and now, for the time being at least, he'd given him a home.

Harvey's not to be put off, however, and he steps further into the room. "Is it okay if I turn on the light?" he asks.

"Umm, yeah, I guess," Mike replies, doing his clumsy best to quickly scrub his tears away with his fingers – no mean feat with one arm immobilised and the other in a cast. He fails miserably, however, and he turns to face Harvey with a defeated sigh.

"Bad first night then, huh?"

Mike nods, not trusting himself to speak at first, but then he sniffs and mumbles, "Bad dreams," as if he feels the need to provide Harvey with an explanation for the disturbance, and to assure him that's it's absolutely nothing to do with the generous hospitality of his host.

"Really?" Harvey says sympathetically. "Bad dreams about the accident?" 

Again Mike nods. "Not actually about _my_ accident though," he confesses after a pause, and his breath hitches a little as he says it. "I guess all this has thrown up a few issues for me, you know?"

Harvey watches him seriously. "You want to talk about that?" he asks after a moment, although he can't help but feel a little relieved when this time Mike shakes his head.

"Okay, so, um … "

His voice trails off and he feels useless, standing there with his head cocked over to one side, for once not knowing what to say or do. The soft glow of the digital clock on the night stand shows him it's a little after five, and behind the drapes daylight is slowly making a dappled appearance, and so he thinks there's not much point in going back to bed, not when the nurse he's employed is going to be here in less than two hours anyway.

"How about we watch some TV for a while?" he suggests. Hesitantly Mike nods, and so Harvey picks up the remote and the TV screen suddenly bursts into life. After flicking quickly through the channels for 30 seconds or so, he settles on an old re-run in black and white.

"Really?" Mike asks, surprised. "This is your choice? _I love Lucy?"_

"Sure," Harvey says, smiling. He swings his legs up onto the bed next to Mike after helping him to sit up and rearranging the pillows. "Who doesn't love Lucy? But if you've got a better idea, you're welcome to take the remote." He dangles it just out of Mike's reach, knowing full well that Mike currently lacks the dexterity to operate it anyway, even if he could take it.

"Ah, why not?" Mike grins, and Harvey's glad to see his tears are already drying.

After a few minutes and feeling the morning chill, Harvey drags a portion of the duvet over his own bare legs, and they sit together companionably with the glow from the black and white pictures flickering across their faces. Harvey finds that he very much enjoys Mike's throaty chuckles as the show melts away the memories of his bad dreams, and he regrets that they haven't spent more time like this laughing together during the short time that they've known each other, and Mike, in turn, finds Harvey's solid muscular warmth beside him reassuring and comforting. It's a bit of fun too, when they challenge each other to who can produce the lines more quickly before the characters actually say their parts, but of course Mike with his amazing memory wins hands down, and even though Harvey already knows Mike could easily recite every single line of every single show he's ever seen if he wanted to, he still enjoys the game.

When the show's over Mike says he's feeling sleepy again, and so Harvey mutes the TV after switching over to CNN. He sits quietly, watching the flickering screen and luxuriating in the other man's presence for a while, until eventually he feels Mike's head growing steadily heavier and heavier against his shoulder, and then once again Harvey finds himself doing something so completely improbable that until recently he wouldn't have believed he was really capable of doing it at all.

He prays.

"Thank you, God," he whispers. "Thank you for not taking him away."

Realising he's spoken the words out loud and not in his head as he'd meant to, he glances down at Mike's head on his shoulder. "You asleep, Mike?" he questions softly. There's no reply, so he reaches across and using his thumb, he gently smooths back Mike's hair where it flops across his forehead, then he carefully manoeuvres himself out of the way, allowing Mike to sink slowly and gently back against the soft pillows. He tucks the duvet around him, all the while fighting the urge to lean down and plant a soft kiss on the smooth skin of his forehead, and then he quietly leaves the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mike's nightmares continue to be a problem, Harvey looks for ways to help him.

As the days go by, Mike grows gradually stronger, but he still has trouble sleeping at night and is frequently bothered by bad dreams. He seems fine during the day, if a little bored and frustrated at times, although Harvey does his best to keep him entertained. While Mike naps on the couch during the afternoons, Harvey, supposedly working, likes to watch him sleep. Strangely enough, Mike never seems to have those dreams when he falls asleep on Harvey's couch. Instead, it's a peaceful sleep he enjoys and he relaxes with his head thrown back and his mouth slightly open, although it amuses Harvey to see that there's always the same two little flushed patches high on his cheeks when he sleeps. He looks so young and innocent like that, that sometimes Harvey feels guilty as he watches him, as if he's stealing something from him that he has no right to take.

The nights are very different though, and Harvey tends to lay awake in his own bed, listening for those little whimpers that indicate a new nightmare is about to begin. Sometimes the sounds fade away almost as soon as they start, but on other nights they become full blown cries, screams almost, and on those occasions Harvey slips quietly into Mike's room and gently wakes him, and he sits with him while they watch TV together until eventually he falls back to sleep.

"You know, maybe you should talk to someone about these dreams you keep having," he suggests one afternoon as he sits beside Mike on the couch. The coffee table is piled high with empty pizza boxes and beer bottles, and looks much more like it belongs in Mike's apartment than in Harvey's. Mike's surprised that Harvey doesn't seem to mind.

"What, you mean like a doctor?" he asks. He tries to shrug his shoulders, then winces a little at the pain it still causes him. "I used to have them a lot when I was a kid," he continues, carefully adjusting his position. "When I first went to live with my grandmother, I had them nearly every night. I used to wet the bed and everything."

"And she didn't ever get you any help?"

Harvey clicks his tongue in annoyance at himself as soon as he's said that. He didn't mean to imply any criticism, it's just that he's concerned, because he really doesn't like seeing the dark smudges under Mike's pretty blue eyes, caused by the disturbed nights and lack of sleep.

Luckily, however, Mike doesn't seem to have taken offence. "It wasn't really necessary," he explains. "My grandmother, she … she just took care of it, like she did everything else. If I had a bad dream she just took me into her bed and held me close until I went back to sleep. After a while, the dreams just faded away."

Harvey nods, satisfied, but that same night Mike wakes up shouting from seemingly the worse nightmare yet. His eyes are wet and wild when Harvey switches on the lamp, and it takes him several minutes, not just to calm Mike down, but to make him realise where he is and that he's completely safe.

"Hey, hey, it's okay buddy," he soothes, stroking Mike's face, the stubble on his cheek soft under the pad of his thumb. "I'm here for you, Mikey. It's okay, you're okay."

Mike looks up at him then as if he's noticing him for the first time, and his eyes gradually focus in on Harvey's face.

"N - no one's ever called m-me Mikey," he stutters. "Not since … not since my mom – "

"Oh God, Mike, I'm sorry," Harvey says. "I – "

"No, no, it's ok, it's ok," Mike assures him. "I don't mind, Harvey. I - I don't, really."

He rolls away from Harvey's anguished gaze then, turning his back on him, pulling his knees up and hugging the duvet close to his chest as best he can.

Harvey sits on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. There's so much he wants to say to Mike, that he _needs_ to say to him, but instead he says nothing, for the last thing he wants to do is upset him even more.

After a while, Harvey carefully pushes himself to his feet and leans over to switch off the lamp, trying his best not to disturb Mike, whom he hopes has finally drifted back off sleep, but as he turns to leave he hears a quiet mumble of, "Don't go, Harvey. Stay with me … please?"

Harvey hesitates, but then he climbs into the bed and slips under the covers. At first he just lays there on his back with his fingers laced behind his head, but then he feels Mike curling back towards him, and soon without thinking he slips an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close.

"S'nice," Mike whispers sleepily, leaning his head on Harvey's warm chest. It doesn't take long before he's sound asleep, and he certainly doesn't have any more nightmares that night.

"I'm thinking I'll need to go back to work soon, maybe tomorrow," Harvey says the following morning as he cuts up the pancakes he's made for breakfast, including his own, an act at which he then rolls his eyes when he realises what he's done. "You're doing a lot better now and I can't stay away from the office forever." _Much as I'd like to stay here with you_ , he wants to add, although he doesn't say it out loud.

Mike says nothing at first, just concentrates on getting the little pieces of pancake into his mouth, but Harvey notices for the next hour or so that he's really quiet and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing.

"You know, I do appreciate everything you've done for me, Harvey," Mike says later. "I really do. Letting me stay here, taking care of me, putting up with my mess and my stupid nightmares – "

"They're not stupid," Harvey tells him firmly. "You've experienced a trauma and it's brought back a lot of bad memories from your past. There's no shame in that, Mike. You said they faded away over time before and they will do again, I'm sure."

"I guess," Mike says doubtfully. He thinks that Harvey is looking tired too though, and that makes him feel bad.

Later that day, Harvey has an idea. They're both so tired that he doesn't think they should even risk waiting for Mike's nightmares to begin again, and so he suggests that instead they should go to sleep together in the same room.

"It's just what you said about your grandmother," Harvey explains, "about how she used to take you into her bed and hold you. And you know, when you nap on the couch during the day, you seem to sleep okay, but I'm always right there beside you then, so I'm thinking maybe it's being alone that triggers your nightmares at night."

"Are you inviting me into your bed, Harvey?" Mike asks, smiling. "You know I snore, right?"

"You don't actually," Harvey says. "You're a very light breather," although for some reason he fights the urge to return Mike's smile. "Anyway, what do you think? I mean, I've spent the last couple nights in your room, for the second half of the night anyway and you seemed to sleep okay with me there. I do think that if you could get a really good night's sleep, it would do you the world of good. Me too, to be fair."

And so it's decided that that's what they'll do. For a while later that evening though, Harvey is sure he can feel a slight change in the atmosphere between them, perhaps a slight undertone of tension, although the conversation between them still flows easily back and forth. For a change, they eat at the table instead of on the couch, and Harvey consults the contraindications leaflet of Mike's painkillers before allowing him a few of bottles of beer in addition to the one a night he's been used to having. They talk about sports, movies, even about work, and Harvey watches in amusement as Mike gets a fit of the giggles when he relays a tale about the time he caught Louis Litt enjoying a face-to-face Valentine's Day skype session with his cat.

"I think you've had enough of those beers, kid," he says, enjoying Mike's alcohol-fuelled giddy laughter but also watching with concern as he clutches at his ribs.

"Oh, Harvey, it's all good," Mike slurs, confirming to Harvey that he has indeed had enough. "It doesn't hurt that much and besides, this is the best I've felt in ages. Lemme have another beer, pleeeeease?"

"No chance," Harvey says firmly. "It's bed for you now, and no TV either."

"Oh, c'mon, man," Mike complains. "No TV and no beer make Homer… something something."

"Go crazy?" Harvey quickly shoots back.

"Don't mind if I do!" they shout at each other before bursting into more laughter.

"Which episode?" Mike challenges when the laughter subsides, although he's still holding his ribs.

"Oh please, that's just insulting," Harvey says, a mock frown on his face. "Treehouse of Horror. Five," he adds emphatically as Mike opens his mouth to question him further.

"Hmm, so you're a Simpsons fan as well as a Trekkie?" Mike teases. "Aren't you the one always full of surprises?" He then attempts to rest his chin on his hand but his elbow slips off the edge of the table and the cast on his arm smashes down onto his kneecap instead. "Ow, fuck, my arm," he cries, doubling over. "That fucking hurt."

"Right, that's enough," Harvey says, frowning as he helps pull Mike to his feet and steers him towards the bathroom. "A quick wash, teeth, pee and then bed for you, and it's happening now."

"Aye, aye, captain," Mike mumbles obediently, and behind him Harvey's worried frown melts into an eye-rolling smirk.

Between Mike's injuries, his sling and his cast, getting ready for bed always seems a long and laborious process, however quick they try to be, and by the time they pull back the covers on Harvey's bed, Mike seems somewhat tetchy and subdued, and all his previous good humour seems to have evaporated. His eyes are over-bright and his face is flushed, and Harvey watches sympathetically as he lies down and tries in vain to find a comfortable position.

"You okay?" he asks. "You know, maybe you shouldn't have had those extra beers after all. I don't think they've actually done you any good."

"You checked the damned leaflet, didn't you?" Mike replies huffily. "I'm fine, Harvey. Quit fussing. You know, sometimes you're worse than the fucking nurse, but at least she doesn't have a problem with wiping my ass."

Briefly, Harvey thinks about slapping the kid down with a scathing comment, but then to his own surprise he lets it go, and in any case, a few seconds later Mike is already apologising.

"Oh God, Harvey, I'm so sorry," he says. "I don't even know why I said that."

"It's okay," Harvey says, and he means it. "Now get some sleep."

For some reason it crosses his mind that maybe Mike's swift mood change might be down to the fact that he's scared to go to sleep, knowing the horrors that are probably waiting for him when he does so. He hadn't ever asked Mike exactly what those terrible nightmares were about, but he knew from some of the things he'd heard him shout that they definitely featured the tragic and untimely deaths of his parents.

Harvey strips down to his customary white tee and black boxers combination, and then he switches off the lamp before getting into the bed himself, conscious all the time of the wide expanse of silk-sheeted mattress between them. He shuts his eyes for a while, feeling tiredness gradually overtaking his body, but Mike is restless beside him, turning and wriggling every few minutes, which inevitably keeps Harvey awake.

After a while Mike sits up, first complaining that the straps of his sling are digging into his neck and asking Harvey to adjust them for him, and then saying that his other arm throbs where he'd banged it on his knee and asking Harvey to fetch him some of his some painkillers. Harvey refuses, however, saying he's already had his full quota for the day, which only serves to irritate Mike even more.

"Fuck!" he huffs out, after rolling onto his back and kicking his legs out so hard that the duvet almost floats clear off the bed. "I can't fucking get to sleep at all. My arm hurts, my knee hurts, my neck hurts, fuck, everything hurts, everything. I need some painkillers, Harvey or I'm never gonna get to sleep."

"Mike, calm down," Harvey tells him as he bends down to retrieve the duvet and he drags it back to cover them both. "There's no point in losing your temper. Look, just lie still, okay? Do some deep breathing or something and think nice thoughts. Just try and relax."

"Relax?" Mike suddenly explodes. "I'd like to see you try and relax with these – these fucking _things_ on your arms. I can't wait to get them off of me. I can't fucking wait."

"Well then, why don't we take the strapping off?" Harvey suggests. He's actually surprising himself that he's still reacting so calmly. "Come on, it can't hurt to leave it off for just one night, can it?"

"Except it _will_ hurt," Mike snaps, "because _you_ won't let me have any of my damn painkillers."

Harvey still decides not to react and instead just lies there quietly for a few minutes or so, listening to Mike's angry, indignant panting, and he's not in the least bit surprised when eventually the younger man again starts to move restlessly, huffing and kicking out his legs.

"Look, is it me?" he asks eventually, leaning up on one elbow and examining Mike's profile, which he can still make out clearly in the darkness. "Is this a bad idea, us being in here together? You can go back to your own room if you want to, or I can go in there and you can stay here, I don't mind." He waits, but when there's no reply he looks more closely and then he's horrified to see that Mike's lower lip is trembling and that he's practically on the verge of tears.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, but there's still no reply. "What do you want me to do?" he eventually adds to the heavy silence. "Help me out here, Mike."

There's another long silence and Harvey sighs, but then Mike's voice floats back out to him from the darkness.

"Maybe – could you - could you hold me? Like you did last night? And - and I'm sorry for being such a dick. I don't even know what's wrong with me."

"For the record, you absolutely _are_ being a total dick," Harvey replies, "but it's okay, you're forgiven. And anyway, you're right, I wouldn't like to have my arms encased in those things 24/7 either." He moves over then and carefully wraps an arm around Mike, pulling him closer to his chest. They lay like that for a while, enjoying each other's warmth, and Mike finds he particularly likes hearing the steady thump-thump of Harvey's heart beneath his ear.

"Feeling a bit better now?" Harvey asks after a while.

"Yeah," Mike truthfully replies, and he rolls in a little, his thigh pressed up against Harvey's as Harvey's fingers gently rub his back in small circular motions, and he sighs, relaxed and contented at last.

Harvey finds he loves holding Mike close like this, loves the clean toothpaste-and-soap smell of him, and the warm suppleness of his smooth skin where his fingertips repeatedly brush against it just beneath the hem of his t-shirt. Soon he can't help but begin to explore a little further, sweeping his hand lightly up under Mike's shirt, over his back and down to his hip again, but after a few strokes he stops when he hears Mike moaning softly. "Are you okay, Mike?" he asks, immediately removing his hand. "Am I hurting you?"

Mike gives the tiniest shake his head. "No," he whispers back. "Can you – can you please just keep doing that?"

"What?" Harvey whispers back. "This?" And he resumes his gentle stroking, pushing his hand back up under Mike's shirt. "Is that nice?" he murmurs, as Mike once more lets out a little involuntary moan.

"Yeah," he mumbles.  "I - I like it a lot."  Again, he pushes himself closer, and then suddenly Harvey understands the reason for Mike's little moans and whimpers, as he realises there's something unmistakeably hard pressing up against his thigh from within Mike's shorts.  His hand continues its stroking, smoothly caressing Mike's soft, warm skin, but now his heart is beating faster and he licks his lips in the darkness and swallows hard.

Suddenly he decides maybe it's time to take a risk, so on his next sweep he reaches a little further down and more to the front, his fingers tentatively ghosting back and forth over the soft hairs on Mike's belly before trailing down to lightly touch the firm shape within the soft jersey fabric of his shorts.

"Is this still okay, Mike?" he asks softly. "Do you want me to stop?  Just say and I will."

Mike's only answer is to lift his knee and press himself even closer, and he lets out another little half-moan as Harvey sweeps his hand a little lower still over the tented fabric.  Harvey soon discovers a small wet patch on Mike's shorts, and he gently begins to rub against it in circular motions with his thumb, gratified to feel the warmth and swollen shape of Mike's already considerable erection pushing back at him from beneath it.

"Mike," he starts to say. "Mike, I – "

"Touch me, Harvey," Mike breathes. "Please."

Again Harvey swallows hard, but then he carefully slips his hand inside the waist band of Mike's shorts, his fingers curling tentatively around the stiff column it finds there. Unable to resist doing so any longer, he buries his face in Mike's hair, luxuriating in the thick softness of it against his skin, smelling that irresistable scent of _Mike_ , drinking him all in. Gradually, though, his lips find their way to Mike's forehead and as he continues to move his hand inside his shorts, he places a series of tiny butterfly kisses along his brow. To his pleasure and surprise, Mike is then suddenly tilting his head up to meet him, and Harvey's lips plant another gentle kiss, this time right on the corner of Mike's mouth. Mike's lips are parted and he's panting slightly as he pushes his hips up, pressing hard against Harvey's hand, his mouth loose and wet, and Harvey kisses him fully then, pressing his tongue deep into Mike's mouth, thrilled when Mike's tongue pushes eagerly back and tangles hotly with his own.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Harvey whispers as they break the kiss, although it seems a bit late now to ask. He doesn't need to wait for a reply, however, as Mike's lips eagerly seek out Harvey's own again in the darkness, and as the younger man once more accepts Harvey's hot silky tongue into his mouth, he groans as he feels his shorts being slipped down, fully exposing him and then, with Harvey's tongue still in his mouth, he starts to thrust himself hard up against the firm curve of the hand that strokes him. Harvey's fingers form a fist and he begins to glide his hand up and down Mike's full length, using the slippery fluid leaking from the tip to lubricate his firm even strokes, and it really isn't very much longer before Mike's suddenly spreading his knees wide and pushing up hard with his hips. "Oh, God, Harvey," he cries, "Oh God," and then he's arching his back and crying out loudly as he comes, comes hard into Harvey's hand, and then he's jerking and trembling and moaning against him, his eyelids fluttering, his body quivering as Harvey soothes him with soft whispers while pressing tender kisses to his lips, cheeks, eyes and throat.

"Jesus, Harvey," Mike whispers into the darkness after a while when he has his breath back. "That was – that was so … so …"

He doesn't finish his sentence but leaves it hanging in the air between them. He feels so warm now, so relaxed and sleepy, and he lies there, his body loose and comfortable now, watching drowsily with heavy-lidded eyes as Harvey switches on the bedside lamp, pads over to the bathroom to wash his hands, then returns a few moments later with a couple of towels to carefully and wordlessly clean Mike up.

Back in the darkness once more, he holds Mike close to his chest.

"Harvey – " Mike begins to say.

"In the morning, okay?" Harvey tells him. "We'll talk in the morning. Sleep now. You need to sleep."

"'Kay," Mike whispers drowsily, and indeed before long he's sound asleep, his body warm, relaxed and safely cocooned within the comforting strength of Harvey's arms. Harvey, on the other hand, lies awake for a long time, staring into the darkness as he holds Mike closely to him and listens to his gratifyingly slow, even breathing.

Thankfully, there are no nightmares for Mike that night, only blissful, peaceful, dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Harvey eases himself out of the bed, being careful not to wake Mike, but as he showers and dresses in the pale morning light, it seems to him that what happened between them the night before is more like a highly improbable dream than actual reality. With a strong feeling of foreboding in his chest, he calls Donna, and then less than an hour later she turns up to meet him at a coffee shop less than a block from his building.

"Oh my God, you so had sex with him last night!" she squeals as soon as she sees his face.

"What?" Harvey's brown eyes widen and he glances quickly at the young waitress at the counter, hoping she didn't overhear, although to be fair the girl doesn't bat an eyelid. "Would you mind keeping your voice down?" he hisses, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "And for your information we did _not_ have sex."

"Oh, come on," she says, rolling her eyes. "I can read you like a book and you know it. Okay, okay, so maybe you guys didn't have full-blown sex. After all, it must be really difficult to have sex with a puppy who doesn't have acceptable use of all its limbs, but – "

"Donna!" Harvey interrupts, as the girl at the counter turns and glances sharply at them. "Enough already." He leans towards her conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "Okay, okay," he whispers, "so there was a – a sexual _encounter,_ for want of a better word, but – "

"Ha! I knew it. That's great!"

She looks deep into his eyes, but instead of the triumph or excitement she expects to see, the only emotions she recognises are fear and guilt.

"Okay, then … so maybe _not_ so great?" she questions doubtfully. "But what could possibly have gone wrong? You two are just made for each other and you know it. You're the perfect couple!"

Harvey sighs then and proceeds to explain about the nightmares as the reason for him inviting Mike to share his bed in the first place, about the alcohol they'd both consumed during the evening, and the way that Mike had practically ended up in tears just five minutes before their so-called _encounter_.

"So what are you actually saying?" Donna asks. "That you feel like you took advantage of him because he was too drunk or emotionally unstable to consent to what you were doing? Is that it?"

"Yeah. Well, no, I don't think so. He wasn't even that drunk. I mean, he asked me to touch him, but … aw look, I don't know. I guess I'm kind of worried that that's exactly what I've done," is Harvey's confused reply.

"But what did Mike have to say about it this morning?"

At that, Harvey looks away. "I just got up and got out of there this morning while he was still asleep," he confesses guiltily, "just as soon as nurse thingy arrived, anyway." When he meets Donna's accusing eyes again, he groans. "Oh, I know, I know, Donna," he pleads. "Don't look at me like that."

"Harvey, you're such a complete idiot when it comes to the affairs of love," she tells him emphatically. "I mean, after all this time, you finally get him into your bed and then _you run away from him?_ What the hell were you thinking?"

"I know," Harvey groans again, "but what if he's woken up feeling horrified at what we did? Or rather what _I_ did to him. I really don't think I could stand that."

"Or worse still, what if he's woken up, found that _you're_ gone and is thinking that _you're_ the one who's regretting it, especially as seeing _you're_ the one who bailed on him this morning?" Donna counters, stabbing a pointed finger at him to emphasis her point. "Did you think about that?"

Harvey groans deeply then and puts his face in his hands.

"Look, you need to talk to him about it," she advises firmly. "As soon as possible. Like, _now_ would be a pretty good idea."

"Come with me," he begs her. "Help me?"

"Oh God, you're such a pussy when it comes to that kid," she scorns, but nevertheless she smiles at him indulgently as she gathers her things together and pulls him to his feet.

When they arrive back at Harvey's condo, Mike's already up and dressed and sitting on the couch. His face lights up as soon as he sees Harvey, Donna notices, and she's instantly reassured that everything will be okay. "Oh hey, Donna," he beams. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mike," she says, smiling. "Thank you." Harvey hovers jut behind her, and she sees Mike shooting him a puzzled little frown. "How's the recovery coming along?" she asks him.

"Yeah, good thanks," he replies, his eyes still on Harvey. "Harvey's really been taking good care of me."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of what I want to talk to you about," she says, raising one eyebrow as she purses her lips. She points at Harvey, then flicks an immaculate fingernail towards the armchair which faces Mike.

"You, sit there!" she tells him, and Mike watches, his eyes wide in fascinated amusement as Harvey immediately obeys without question.

The nurse Harvey hired suddenly enters the room, and they all turn as one to look at her. "I'm just going across town to get this new prescription filled for Mr Ross," she says as she shrugs on her coat, and clearly sensing something momentous is about to happen in the room, she quickly makes her escape.

"Okay boys," Donna says briskly, taking a third seat herself in between them. "I'm gonna say this only once, so you both need to listen very carefully." She waves a hand in Harvey's general direction then turns to Mike. "Mike, this is Harvey Reginald Specter," she says, very matter-of-factly. "I think it's fair to say it took him all of five minutes to fall in love with you, because it was just like looking at a younger version of himself in the mirror. I'm joking," she says, turning as Harvey tries to interject, the word _objection_ already forming on his lips, "but not about the love part," she adds. "Oh no, definitely not about that." She turns back to Mike. "Harvey likes to think that he's right all the time, and that showing he cares for anyone is a sign of weakness, but I always knew that when the right man came along, he'd have to realise that the real key to being strong _is_ about caring for someone else as well as yourself. And Harvey," she continues, "meet Michael James Ross. He's cute, smart, funny, although sometimes just a little _too_ much on the wrong side of lovable dorkishness for my liking, but –"

At this, Mike raises a hand to make his own objection, but Harvey shoots him a warning look and shakes his head, causing Mike to immediately drop his hand as the onslaught continues.

"But the thing is," Donna carries on, "not only is he a really good guy, he's also been head over heels in love with you for just about the same amount of time as you have been with him. Oh, and just for the record, I think the fact that it takes not just a potentially fatal accident, but also more than just a little bit of manipulation from me, to get either of you to even _think_ about showing your true feelings to one another, is an absolute disgrace."

She stops just as abruptly as she'd started, and then she looks from one to the other expectantly.

"Is that it?" Harvey asks after a lengthy pause, and from the relieved look on his face, Mike can see that Harvey thinks they've actually got off pretty lightly.

"Yep, that's it," Donna confirms, as she stands up and adjusts the belt on her coat. "I rest my case. But Mike," she says, turning back to him. "Just so you know, Harvey doesn't have any regrets about what he did with you in bed last night, except that he's worried that you might think you've been violated in some way, and Harvey, judging from the look of disbelief on Mike's face when I just used the word _violated_ , I'm quite willing to bet that he is up for letting you get your hands into his pants at any time you want. So sorry to be blunt boys, but it had to be said. Okay, so now I'm going to leave you two alone together. Harvey, you are going to phone nurse 'thingy' and give her the rest of the day off, and then you two are going to sit on that couch for the next hour, not only telling but more importantly, _showing_ each other exactly how you really feel." She picks up her bag then and sweeps majestically out of the room with a bouncy flick of her long hair and without glancing back.

As they hear her heels clicking determinedly down the hallway followed by the short, sharp slam of the front door, Harvey looks sheepishly over at Mike, who grins back somewhat shyly.

"So … we're good?" Harvey asks him, suddenly looking more nervous than Mike's ever seen him. "Mike, about last night – " he starts to say.

"Harvey, believe me when I say Donna's absolutely right, I _loved_ what happened last night," Mike assures him fervently, and then he breaks into the biggest smile which lights up his whole face and makes Harvey's heart soar with relief.

Soon, they're sitting side by side on the sofa, facing each other, and Mike practically purrs when Harvey wastes no time in kissing him, probing his mouth with his tongue while gently caressing his face with his hands.

"It's not fair that I can't properly touch you yet," Mike grumbles, but he's only play-acting. He's enjoying Harvey's attentive kisses far too much to care.

"You know, I'd really started to think you were straight after all," Harvey admits after a while, and he sits back to gaze at Mike, because suddenly he can't get enough of looking at him. "Either that or you weren't interested anyway, though I did nearly make a move on you once."

"When was that?" Mike asks.

"It wasn't long after I first hired you," Harvey confesses. "You remember that time when Louis took you to the tennis club and you came back high?"

Mike immediately flushes. How could he forget that?

"Yeah, you looked kinda like _that_ on that day too," Harvey says, smiling at the sudden bloom in Mike's cheeks. "You were trying to avoid my eyes so you could fool me about what you'd been up to, but, well, there was something about the way you kept looking down at my mouth, that for a moment I really felt like you were totally eye-fucking me. I so badly wanted to kiss you right then but I told you to get out instead."

"Eye-fucking you?" Mike echoes, although he remembers the moment very well whether he'd been high or not, and he knew that that was _exactly_ what he'd been doing. "You could have kissed me, you know," he adds. "I'd have kissed you right back."

"Well, I didn't want to make a fool of myself when I wasn't at all sure," Harvey explains ruefully, "and besides, how would that have looked if you hadn't reciprocated? Being slapped with an accusation of sexual harassment by my own associate wouldn't look particularly good on my CV, and Jessica would have had my balls in a sling for it, for sure, and I don't just mean my baseballs either."

Mike laughs a little as he carefully digests all this information, his blue eyes wide with wonder in a way which Harvey finds absolutely adorable.

"But, why didn't you ever give me a hint after that?" Mike asks, his brow wrinkled in a puzzled frown. "Like - like there was _nothing_ from you, not even one little sign. Not until I ended up in the hospital, anyway. I was about ready to give up on you ever noticing how I felt."

"Well," Harvey says, considering, "I didn't know if it was just the drugs making you behave that way with me that day, and I also had to consider that it was possibly just wishful thinking on my part that pegged you as somehow interested anyway. And then along came that – that Jenny girl, and then there was that whole 'Days of Our Lives' saga with that paralegal – what was her name?"

"Rachel," Mike quickly supplies, grimacing slightly.

"Yeah," Harvey agrees, " _Rachel_ , and so I figured it was probably better to just keep my feelings to myself."

"But – you must know that was just me trying to fit in, right?" Mike says, a little embarrassed now. "I mean think about it, Harvey. How was it going to sound to the other associates? Hi, I'm Mike Ross. I never went to Harvard, or any other law school for that matter. In fact, I didn't even finish high school, but hey, how about I throw this one in for free: I fancy my new boss like crazy and oh boy, I hope that he likes me _that_ way too, because I really can't wait for him to fuck my pants off."

Suddenly realising what he's actually just said, Mike blushes again, although he chuckles as he quickly returns Harvey's broadening grin.

"So, is that how you've really been feeling about me all this time?" Harvey growls in a low slow drawl, his brown eyes twinkling as he moves in closer. "You've been wanting me to fuck your pants off?"

"Er … well, it's something I've certainly considered from time to time," Mike confesses, still grinning. "Which is kind of a massive understatement actually. Yeah, like … totally an understatement. Of epic proportions. Kind of like – "

Harvey shakes his head at Mike's characteristic babbling, then suddenly leans forward and silences him with another kiss.

"You slept well last night," he remarks when he finally sits back. "No nightmares."

"No," Mike agrees. "No nightmares. Only a dream coming true." Immediately he shakes his head and rolls his eyes at his own words. "Oh my God, that was really bad," he says laughing in embarrassment at himself. "I can't believe I just said that."

"I can't believe you just said that either," Harvey teases. "But I still liked it."

Suddenly he closes his eyes, and Mike watches him curiously as he bows his head and softly mutters something under his breath.

"What was that all about?" he asks, when the moment is over.

"Well, if you must know, I was just saying a little prayer," Harvey tells him, "giving thanks for Donna and her interfering and for the fact that you didn't get completely mashed under that truck.  Oh, and because, um, you apparently ... are in love with me."  

He says the last part really quietly, and his expression is suddenly more open and easier to read than Mike has ever seen it.  Harvey hasn't said it yet, at least not with words anyway, but Mike can see it in his eyes and then he knows that what Donna has said is true: Harvey is in love with him too.

"Hey, you know what this means now, don't you?" Mike says, his eyes bright and teasing. "It means all those times you said you didn't care about me, you actually _were_ lying. See, I knew you were lying all along.  Admit it, Harvey."

"I wasn't lying," Harvey protests. "I was just being economical with the truth."

"And what is the actual truth?" Mike asks.  He's curious now, wanting to know, no, _needing_ to know, if Harvey can actually say it.

"You want the truth, Mike?" Harvey asks him.  "Seriously?"

At that, Mike just nods, suddenly breathless and not trusting himself to speak. 

"The truth," Harvey says, taking a deep breath, "is that yes, I'm crazy in love with you too, and not only that but I also one hundred per cent guarantee that I am totally going to fulfil your dreams and fuck the pants right off of you the very first chance I get."

"Er .. well, I guess that might be sooner than you think," Mike says, grinning as _Oh my God, he loves me, he actually really loves me_ races round his head.

"What, even with both your arms out of commission?" Harvey enquires, and he too is grinning now, although his is a slow, eye-narrowing, _I'm coming for ya_ predatory grin compared to Mike's dizzyingly excited _take me now, I'm melting_ one.

"Actually, especially with both my arms out of commission," Mike sniggers in response.

"Excellent," Harvey replies, and then still smiling, he impatiently takes Mike back into his arms again for another deep and probing kiss.


End file.
